Faction High School
by Anon2468
Summary: New school, new life.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm aware of how over used these story lines are, but they are just so fun to write! I really hope you guys like it! It would be great if you could leave a review to let me know if I should carry on or not.**

I still feel nauseated from the plane journey; it was two days ago.

Something about travelling through time zones just doesn't really sit well with me. I'm all for long plane rides, but as soon as I step off my stomach feels funny.

"Tris? Did you hear what I said?" the direct question snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry, what?"

"The boxes." Caleb repeats. He sits directly in front of me on our new dinner table, "I asked if you took your boxes to your room."

I lean my elbows further down onto the table and dramatically place my head into my hands, grunting as a form of replying a 'yes'.

"I thought you overcame your jet lag years ago. You were fine when we went travelling last year," he sipped his tea thoughtfully, his glasses balancing on the tip of his rather hooked nose, his green eyes fixed on the newspaper he holds. He looks so much like our father in moments like these. Old and wise looking, his dimples showing every now and then with the concentration in his eyes so obvious it's almost mesmerising to look at. It always surprised me how easily Caleb could concentrate. It's some how calming.

I sit up, remembering Caleb asked me a question, "I guess there's something about never going back which triggers the sickness in me,"

"Don't be so dramatic, Tris." he says, turning to look at me with a slight, rather forced, laugh, "No one said anything about not going back."

I feel like a child, constantly fidgeting in my seat, "No, but they might as well have. The house is practically emptied out, and on the market, we're officially out of our old school. Going back would mean staying in a hotel and that just wouldn't feel right. I'd rather not do that." 'they' being our parents, both of which are currently touring the new neighbourhood.

Caleb just went back to reading his newspaper, conceding. I slump further in my chair, not knowing what to do. Quite ironic, since I know what I should be doing. My new room awaits, with boxes stacked high, ready to be emptied out. I get up, leaving my brother and turn the corner to the hallway. Looking around, I recall the layout of our old house in London. Small yet spacious, with the interior being the exact same as that of the other houses on the same road. Still going to have to get used to this.

I climb the stairs two at a time. The first floor landing has access to two of the four bedrooms in the house, one study, and one bathroom. I climb the next flight of stairs, to the second floor my right is the door to mine, and to the left is the door to Caleb's. We have an adjoining bathroom in between. I turn into my room an open the door, only for it to be constricted by the pile of boxes blocking it.

I inwardly groan, squeezing my way through the crack in the door, careful not to topple over any of the boxes. Other than that, the only things currently in my room are my desk and the bed. My refusal of unpacking left me sleeping on the sofa in the living room for the past two nights, but I need to get it together.

My window seat looks uncomfortable with the lack of pillows, my bed doesn't have a mattress and my desk chair is still in it's box and needs to be built. There is literally nowhere for me to sit, so I plug my phone into the speakers, set it down on the desk and get to work unpacking the boxes.

The music is so loud I fail to hear the the knocking on the door. I see movement in my peripheral as it opens and I reach to turn the music off. The sudden silence leaves a ringing in my ear.

"Mum and Dad are back, they want to know if you're staying for lunch," Caleb says as he peeks his head around the door, unable to fit through the small gap. He looks around what he can see of the room. "Jesus, Tris. You might want to finish unpacking. We've been here long enough,"

I ignore his comment, however correct he is, "Yeah, I'll be here for lunch. Not exactly many places I can go to,"

Do I really want to spend another day in the house, wearing the same pyjamas? Caleb begins to close the door.

"Actually," I start, "tell them I'm going out."

Caleb turns to look at, confused at first. He then just rolls his eyes and shuts the door behind him. He's put up with me for sixteen years, he's learnt to just stop asking questions based around my indecisiveness.

Looking around my room, I see how little I managed to achieve in the time I spent unpacking; one of the disadvantages of having a big room. Back in London, I had the best bedroom. It wasn't too small that I was cramped but it wasn't too big that I would spent hours attempting to tidy it. I collapse onto the bed with a groan and lie there, staring up at the ceiling. The room was freshly painted before our plane landed, and the bed frame was put together on our first day here. Why I'm so against unpacking, I have no idea. It's just the thought that making this house permanent feels like an insult to home back in London.

I lie there for a minute. The jet lag is still pressing down on my eyelids, goading me to sleep, and for a second, I'm tempted to admit defeat. Instead, I force myself up and walk over to the bathroom, lock the door on both sides and turn the shower on.

It's crazy the difference five minutes makes. Five minutes ago, my hair was greasy and I might as well have been asleep, but now, I feel fresh and awake. Well, as awake as I can be. Towel wrapped around me, I make my away towards the small walk-in wardrobe in the other side of the room. Thankfully, I've already unpacked most of my clothes, though my favourite boots are still lost in one of the boxes.

I pull black jeans off one of the hangers, but too quickly, and the hanger goes flying off. I ignore it and grab a turtle neck that's folded on one of the shelves. The dark green of the top compliments my hair colour, or so that's what a friend of mine said back home. With the outfit on, I stare at myself in the full length mirror. My dirty blonde hair is almost dry and comes up to just below my shoulder. It falls straight, framing my face. My long nose is too thin, making me look like a little girl who's features don't fit her face.

Sighing, I pull on black boots and a denim jacket as I walk out the door with nothing but some money in my pocket, leaving my phone on the desk. My father had to change all the money in our bank accounts to fit the currency here. I don't think I'll ever get over a one dollar note.

"Tris, could you not slam your feet on the stairs so much?" I hear my Dad say as I climb down the last set of stairs. I turn towards the kitchen to see him and my Mum making sandwiches for lunch. I walk towards them to give them a kiss and run back towards the door, taking one of the keys from the dish in the entrance and slam the door behind me.

Once outside, I take a deep breath. Before now, I haven't been outside for the past two days. The fresh air is relaxing, and I stand there for a minute in the autumn weather with my hands in my pocket just looking around. The street has a line of trees either side of the road, all with orange leaves ready to fall in mid-October. That is, if they haven't fallen already, as the pavement is covered in a disarray of yellow and red and orange. It's as if the colours of a flame welded together to form the leaves of a tree.

It's beautiful.

As much as I miss London, I do have to admit - Chicago is a stunning city.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long for me to update! I wasn't sure where to end this chapter so it is a little bit shorter than the first but I'll make it up in the next one. Thanks for reading and please leave a review if you enjoyed it :)**

Though it's not windy, I can feel the cold through my jeans, though luckily my boots protect my shins. I shove my hands into my jacket pockets and walk down the street, crunching through the leaves as my feet makes contact with them.

I'm in love with the sound of leaves being stepped on, have been for a long time. I used to jump into piles of leaves after my Dad raked them together, ending in fits of laughter. I smile at the memory, longing to be back in the old house, with the old garden. I shake that thought from my head, intending to get used to the idea of a different house, different garden. It's the foundation of creating peace with moving, something I have to do.

The cool air prickles in my lungs on the way in, and on the way out unfurls in a cloud of vapour, a physical representation of the cold weather. The street has a few shops and restaurants on either side of the road, similar to the high streets in London. I can see a few familiar brands when I squint, causing me to smile involuntarily. At least some things are still the same.

There are a few cafes surrounding the shops, several of which are packed. It is a Saturday afternoon, after all. Weaving my way through the people walking around me, I make my way over to the emptiest coffee shop that I could see. It being the emptiest doesn't mean it was empty, though. As I push open the door, I'm greeted with the smell of freshly ground coffee, something I associate with being relaxed, reason why I spend most of my time in places like these.

I can hear Coldplay playing softly in the background. It's a buzzed atmosphere with people constantly moving around the shop, laughing with friends and enjoying themselves. The wooden panel designs on the wall give it a homely feeling and the bare wood tables and chairs add to it. I join the end of the line, smiling to myself.

Once I have a cup in one hand and a plate with a sandwich in the other, I manage to sit myself down at a small table in the corner where someone just left. Luckily for me, it's right next to the window with the back of the chair against the wall, giving me a perfect view of the street beside me and the rest of the interior.

It's one of my favourite things to do. People watching may sound creepy to some people but to me, it's calming. It's diverting attention away from myself and testing my observational skills. I usually play a game to see if I can guess what they are on their way to do but it's to no end, as I'll never be able to find out if I'm right or not.

The coffee cup is warm against my cool hands and I lace my fingers together around it, preserving the heat. I take a sip of the drink but I burn my tongue, so I set it down waiting for it to cool. Instead, I just eat my sandwich slowly, occasionally taking glances out the window. I'm tempted to buy a slice of cake after I finish, but I don't want to risk losing my seat.

I shift in my seat slightly so that I'm no longer predominately facing the rest of the cafe and I can see more of the street without craning my neck to much, without looking like a creep that enjoys staring at people. It's not quite evening yet, but the sky has begun to get darker, causing the passing car lights to illuminate more so. The crowd of people is starting to thin and I can see people more clearly. There's a couple walking hand in hand away from me so that I can see their backs. The girl has long blonde hair with light brown streaks through it and the guy has a tattoo that starts at the back of his right ear down to underneath his shirt. It looks like a snake.

As they walk, they pass a guy leaning against a lamppost, arms crossed, his body facing me but his eyes wandering. His hand is holding his phone up to his ear and he has a sort of stillness around him that I can't describe.

His hair is so dark that it might be mistaken for black. I take a sip of my coffee as I scan his face. He has deep, dark blue eyes. They're deep set, so deep that his eyelashes graze the skin under his eyebrows. Looking down a bit I can see that there is a faint hollow beneath his cheekbones, setting a shadow that's barely visible from where I'm sitting. He's speaking, but when he's not I can the shape of his lips; a spare upper lip and a full lower lip. If I had to use one word to describe him, it would be striking.

He hangs up the phone and my eyes are drawn to who I assume is his friend. Someone comes from the cafe I'm sitting in and greets the guy outside by hitting him on his back, smiling a wide, toothy smile. I can't hear what they're saying from here, but they both laugh as if one of them said a joke. His friend is tall and handsome, with bronzed skin and dark brown hair that matches his dark brown eyes. They both turn around and walk towards the other end of the street, away from me.

I move slightly so that I can see the inside of the cafe better. Still drinking my coffee, my eyes shift from the heavily tattooed barista with the double pierced lip to the girl sitting the furthest from me reading a book with her legs crossed to the golden haired boy who just entered, ringing the bell above the door.

I take a deep breath in through my nose, inhaling the smell of coffee beans and exhale through my mouth. I down what's left in my mug and swallow the bitter liquid. The idea of leaving occurs to me but the chair is too comfortable and the thought of going back to a half-unpacked room is definitely not appealing.

I fidget in my seat. Since I left my phone at home and my food is finished, there's not much left for me to do. I try to concentrate on my surroundings and lose myself like I so often do but I can't focus on anything specific. With no clue as to what time it is, I sigh and lift myself up from the chair, sad to leave my little corner, and make my way towards the door that leads back to the street. The little bell above it rings as I open the door and I'm greeted with the cold air once again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update this new chapter! I procrastinate a lot and never got around** **to writing anything new, but here it is finally. Hope you enjoy!**

The door has not even shut yet and I find myself regretting my decision. I turn to look at what was once my seat only to find it occupied by a couple with a baby stroller. I cup my hands around my mouth and breath into them, longing for thermal gloves. The sky settles into a dusky blue colour with slight hints of purple blended into the corners, mixing with the light coming from the sunset. Quickly realising I'm in the way of the door, I jump to the side and my right elbow collides with the brick wall. My skin doesn't make contact so my top bobbles slightly from the friction, but my hand immediately reaches towards the pain in order to try and suppress it. I walk back the way I came from earlier in the afternoon still looking at my elbow, not paying attention as I walk straight into someone on my path.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-" I'm unable to finish my sentence as I look up to see who I bumped into.

"No worries," the tall bronzed skin guy started. Thoughts of the blue-eyed boy race through my mind and my eyes inadvertently dart to the area behind him. I immediately see him slowly jogging to catch up to his friend.

"Hey Zeke, you good?" he says hitting his friend, Zeke, on his shoulder, after taking a glimpse at me. All I can think of is how stupid I was not to put on at least a little bit of makeup.

Zeke turns back to him, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I left it inside,"

They begin to walk away from me back towards the direction of the coffee shop. I stand still, raking my mind, trying to find something, anything to say.

"Hey." I say turning around, facing them. I get their attention quick and I can feel two sets of eyes staring at me. "I'm sorry to bother you but could you help me out? I'm a little lost."

It's an outright lie. I take pride in knowing I'm good with directions and remembering routes, but I had to say something to keep speaking to them.

"Yeah, sure. Where you headed?" Zeke starts to walk a little closer to me, followed by mystery boy.

"South Kenwood Avenue,"

"There's only houses on that street, I don't remember a hotel being there. You sure you got the right place?"

"Oh, I live there,"

"Sorry, my bad. It's the accent," Zeke laughed, "You live here? What school do you go to?" I can see his friend nudge him slightly as if to tell him to stop.

"Sorry." Zeke cleared his throat and pointed towards the direction I came from earlier, "Go straight down this road and take the third right."

"Thank you," I start as I begin to walk away from them. I turn my back quickly so I don't see the way they look at each other. I must've looked like such an idiot asking for directions to a road that's practically ten steps away. I can hear him say "Any time" before I'm completely out of ear shot.

It's strange how quickly the sky changes. 10 minutes ago it was starting to get a little dark, however now I wouldn't be surprised if it was midnight. I don't want to worry my parents, so I start to walk faster down the road and take the turning onto South Kenwood. The road is illuminated by little yellow lights poking out from each window along the street, with the odd street lamp casting shadows upon the pavement. My one looks exceptionally tall, and I slowly find myself being jealous of my own shadow.

I walk up to my house and get my keys out to unlock the door. Not wanting to ruin the warm air inside, I close it quickly.

"Tris?" I hear a voice yell from upstairs.

"Hey," I walk for the kitchen.

"Why haven't you been answering your phone? I've called you many times." I can hear soft steps coming down the stairs. My Mum walks through the kitchen door, takes an apple from the fruit basket and leans up against the door frame.

"Sorry, I left my phone here,"

"So," she takes a bite out of her apple, "did you get a good look at the neighbourhood?"

"Kind of, I guess." I say as I get a bottle of water out of the fridge. I can see leftover sandwiches in there, "I went to get a coffee, didn't see much."

She takes another bite of her apple and chews slowly, looking around the kitchen as I open the bottle. "I have a good feeling about this, Tris. You shouldn't worry, people move all the time."

"Who said I'm worrying?"

"No one had to tell me, I can see the look on your face. It's like you haven't relaxed since we got here." she says softly, shifting in her place.

"I'm fine, Mum. You don't have to worry about me." she starts to walk towards me, pulling me into a hug and says: "Oh, I always worry about you, Tris."

I hug her back and we stand there for a few seconds. After a while, she begins to pull away and walks towards the door. I can hear her say something about turning off the lights as she ascends the staircase.

I stand by myself for a minute with the bottle still in my hand. I lean up against the counter and place it down as the cold of it begins to bother me. I stay for a little while longer, just thinking. I don't think I'm exactly scared for Monday, but I'm not excited either. It's a strange mix that leaves me sick. I try to think of something different and my mind takes me back to the blue-eyed boy. How many schools are in the area? Could he be in mine? I should've answered Zeke when he asked me where I go. Maybe we would've talked for a little longer if they found out I'd be attending their school. I could've made my first friends. Gone to school on Monday knowing who I'd be sitting with for lunch. Now it's just one more thing for me to worry about it.

Faction High School is an odd name. The website gave off the impression there are houses, and though my school back home had houses, they were nothing but teams we were put into on Sport's Day, so all I have to go on in terms of that is Harry Potter. I start to imagine having to put on a hat to decide where I fit in and I laugh to myself as I pick up my water bottle and walk back up to my room.

 **A/N: Another chapter done. Hope you liked it, please leave a review if you did! Also please leave reviews about what you want to happen next or even advice or feedback on my writing. I'd love to read them!**


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